


the waiting game

by booooin



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga), Death Note: Another Note
Genre: Dirty Talk, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Mind Games, Multi, Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Emotional Tension, making fun of certain characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:17:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booooin/pseuds/booooin
Summary: After the Yotsuba arc, the task force gets a series of creepy prank phones calls. Right after, a wild B appears and the Kira task force headquarters pretty much turn into the emotional equivalent of post 9/11 USA. In other words, B introduces a state of terror into the story we all know and love.Will become explicit in the future.





	1. hello hello

“L’s real name is L,” someone tells Kira on the phone. L is on the other line, listening in, and Kira has no choice but to do nothing.

“And who is this?” Kira wants to know.

The caller does a perfect imitation of Yagami Light, of To-oh University, whose father is former chief of police.

“Yagami Light,” he says in a perfected holier-than-thou-though-I’d-rip-everyone-out-there-apart-alive inflection.

 

* * *

 

The next day, he calls back. This time, it’s a scrambling match for the phones until Aizawa leans over them both and puts the call on speaker.

“L,” the caller asks for.

“Yes?” Kira replies.

“Did you know that Shinigami love apples?”

This time, Kira wastes no time. “Who are you? What do you know?”

The caller just clears his throat like he’s had a cough for years. There’s hacking at the other end of the line for a good fifteen minutes before he comes back, voice all scratched and drawling.

“Hey, Light,” the caller cajoles in Ryuk’s voice. “You owe me some apples. I’m starvin’.”

 

* * *

 

L pretends that he has no idea what Light is talking about when he brings up the creepy phone calls.

“It’s most likely just some prank caller,” he claims, blinking exactly once for extra effect. He’s eating some British variety of ginger cookies in a disgusting way and getting crumbs all over the death note. “I didn’t know Light-kun was so sensitive.”

Of course he’d say that. He has to. He doesn’t know about Ryuk and isn’t supposed to. There is no way that this is some trick engineered by L - the whole thing is too big for his comprehension. The only explanation is that vacuuming his memory system sparse and then re plumbing it full of necessary information again did a number on Light’s head and now he’s gone and lost his mind.

“You should let Matsuda answer the hotline,” L tells him, “If you don’t feel up to it.” It’s a jab. Of course, it is. L always knows exactly where and when to sink his teeth. He, mosquitos, and other blood sucking parasites have that in common.

After they caught Hideki, that became apparent. L wasted no time in obtaining two death row inmates and making them play a game of Chinese checkers for who would write whose name in the note. No one was more appalled than Light who now has exactly 13 days to make his move. He has to remind himself that there’s no point in killing L if it’s just going to incriminate him and that he would be able to at any time, as soon as Rem saw Misa. When Matsuda hands him the phone for the third time that week, Light wants to squeeze the concerned look on his face off with his fist.

“He says the call’s for you, Light-kun.”

If there’s anything Light doesn’t have time for, it’s this but he takes the phone anyway. Misa was coming any moment now and it would all be over. Besides, just because curiosity killed the cat doesn’t mean it stands a chance against him.

“Hello?” Light thinks that, for all he knows, L’s already on the call from those headphones of him.

“13 days is my name.” This time, the voice is such a close imitation of the type of spooky tone they use on every Halloween program that Light almost rolls his eyes. He doesn’t, though, because he has no idea _how the fuck the guy knew about the 13 days_. “In case you were wondering. I know, I know…I had all summer to phone but I didn’t really feel like it was warranted until right this moment. You know that it’s his birthday, don’t you? Didn’t you think to get a card at the very least? How _graceless_. That’s just your style, whoring after all the candy, you big _slut_.” The voice catches pitch every few seconds, going from grandma to little boy until last syllable comes a hiss that sounds like it came from the devil. The next moment, the voice is pure joy. “I’ve always loved his birthdays, all of them. Just his. They make me _beyond_ pleasure.”

“Do you have any real information or should I hang up now?” asks Light, checking his watch. Misa should be here any second now. The office is too quiet and there’s no way L isn’t also eavesdropping on this call.

“I just wanted to let you know what a special date October 31st is for my dear beloved. Beloved. B-loved.” He’s enunciating in a specific way but talking such nonsense that Light doesn’t see what it’s for.

“Yes, of course. It’s a federal holiday.”

At that, the voice warps in anger. “It’s L’s fucking birthday a-and his-his real n-name is actually just L, s-s-stu-stupid as that s-s-seems. A-and not all Sh-Sh-Shinig-g-gami love apples. S-s-some of them love _human, little blonde girls_. Can you believe it?”

The way the voice tapers off is so vicious that a sudden chill takes over the skin on Light’s back and he has to slam the phone down. On his right, L hasn’t looked away once this entire time.

“Prank call,” Light tells Matsuda.

 

* * *

 

Five minutes after Light hangs up, he’s barely finished recovering from the inexplicable queasiness that accompanied his experience of that particular phone call when the most disgusting man he has ever seen appears in the office, just walks through the door like he’s on the team and knows all the codes to get in, like the alarms aren’t screaming from right behind him.

“What are you doing here?” L asks in recognition after he tells Watari to turn off the alarms and Light is almost exactly sure that he is up to something.

“You need my help, birthday boy. And I did call beforehand, just like you asked.” The man seems to reek even though he has no discernible smell. It’s his face that is truly appalling. The whole thing looks as if it is made of pieces of silicon tacked together instead of real skin. The hair doesn’t seem to grow naturally from the head but gives a startled appearance, too black to be natural. His eyebrows were bleached.

The man, or thing, catches Light’s eye before walking, neither fast nor slow, up to him until he’s breathing on his face. Something instinctual inside of Light lunges away and it takes a lifetime of carefully practiced attention to detail to hold himself in place. Light hates that this thing is taller for him, just by an inch. It’s not noticeable. 

“Kira,” the thing names him and Light’s about to panic before he realizes that he’s wearing Tom Ford and this creature looks worse than a refugee fresh off a boat. That’s when he realizes it, exactly why this whole situation is giving him the heebie-jeebies. The man is dressed in a T-shirt, barely white anymore and closer to yellow, in jeans that are more brown than blue. This thing isn’t human - it’s some abstract entity that crawled up from the uncanny valley between L and something horrible.

It came straight for Light and proclaimed him God.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he swears but it’s no help.

“You’re Kira Kira Kira Kirakirakirakira!” it’s rambling. “I _know_ you are, i know _what_ are you, I know _you_ , I knowknowknowknowknow, I _know_.” It doesn’t stop. Light lets an ounce of the disgust he feels show on his face. The moment calls for it.

“Down, Betsy,” L tells the thing, talking like he’s speaking to a trained animal and not a horrible, barely human person. As soon as L speaks, the man drops down to his knees so fast and hard there’s a crutch of kneecap against cement. On the floor, he sticks his tongue out and pants a little at Light.

“Ha! Betsy. I like it.” The thing gives L a look like they’ve got an inside joke between them that’s not shared back. “He’s very good looking, isn’t he?” he asks and Light knows that the thing is talking about him.

“What is _that_?” Light asks, wanting to kick it away from his feet.

Light takes the hair on the scruff of the man’s neck and guides his away. Light really doesn’t see how he can stand to touch something so vile.

“Yagami Light, please meet the original Ryuuzaki,” L says.

Light has no idea what this means, just that it looks anything but good.

 

* * *

 

L keeps the thing - _Ryuuzaki_ \- chained to the middle of the office floor by the neck, reassuring no one by saying that he needs to keep an eye on him. No one asks him where he keeps all his industrial strength chains.

Around 6 PM, Misa shows up. She’s been his girlfriend through thick and thin and there she was, the sunset behind her making her glow. There should be no cause for suspicion in Light meeting her out front. In fact, his father encourages it and Matsuda can hardly contain his excitement.

She’s holding an apple and Light almost approves of the way she’s handling her business.

When he turns around to go and quiet down Matsuda for property’s sake on the way, however, he’s cut short.

The Ryuuzaki creature is sitting, legs up, in a perfect impression of L. He is more L than L, even though the real thing is sitting just five feet over. He is making it very apparent that the only reason Light wasn’t able to immediately place his likeness was because he was trying hard to make it un-apparent. And there he was now, sitting there looking exactly like L. Whatever he sees on the monitor makes him break out in a grin and splits his face in half.

But no - it’s impossible that he could see anything. Even if Ryuk were with Misa, Light himself can’t even see him yet. This thing just knows exactly what buttons to push. He’s an amateur psychologist at best.

“L, I need to go to the bathroom again,” Ryuuzaki pleads in the small, babyish voice he’s been using since L chained him up.

L, far too preoccupied with an ice cream and staring past Rem at the monitors, doesn’t give him the time of the day. “Please try to control yourself. You went exactly two minutes ago.”

“It’s an emergency.”

It’s impossible, Light reassures himself, because he has no choice but to leave the room. This guy is looney tunes, not even singing a good tune, and his hot, model girlfriend is just outside, waiting for him with a present, by the look of things.

 

* * *

 

L can barely pay attention to the Shinigami with B begging to be taken to the loo, almost in hysterics.

“ _Please_ , L, please.” L can tell that B is crying big crocodile tears now. Or maybe they’re real and they’ve always been real. It’s hard to tell with B and never worth the time. “Please? _Pretty_ please?”

She’s watching the screen, watching Misa and Light exchange touches and words. She hasn’t fixated on anything so far, not like this. L’s had a childhood of military training and so has B and they both know how to read lips so when Misa’s glossy ones open and close and pout as if she’s telling Light an important part of her day, they both go quiet.

“L-I-have-inside-information-and-I-need-to-tell-you-right-now,” B says very quickly when he sees that Light is about to come back inside.

L doesn’t move. This could all be a ploy to get him alone. “We are the inside. All of us, except you,” he reminds B.

The door opens and closes. Light is back amongst them.

“You won’t solve this case,” B says darkly, “ because you’ve never, ever, not once learned to listen to me. I think it’s disgusting with a neurotic, egotistical sociopath you’ve been destined to be, since birth.”

Pistachio ice cream melts on L’s tongue. “You’re not even that good of a detective.”

“Excuse me?” Light thinks it’s meant for him. Of course he does. This doesn’t warrant an answer, L decides.

“What do you want in exchange?” he asks B instead because there’s no way he’s getting information for free. Never in his life has he gotten anything from B for free.

B gets all dreamy around then, of course he does. He’s probably fantasizing about sex, even though they haven’t had it with each other since they were children.

“Third base,” he says.

“No,” L immediately counters.

B reconsiders. “I want you to finger me.”

By then, Light is giving them a death glare and Matsuda is cherry red. The rest of the team is pretending to not hear. It’s at times like this that L appreciates the anonymity of Japanese workplace culture.

“Double no,” he tells B who shrugs.

“Had to give it a shot.”

“You get three tries,” L warns him. “No more.” He doesn’t have all day to sit around listening to Beyond Birthday. if he did, he’d be buried alive in a ditch somewhere without limbs.

“Okay,” B sighs. “I want to spoon. Yes yes, I do and I think I want to be the little spoon.”

L pictures this. It doesn’t cross any boundaries that seem life threatening to break. “Fine. But I’m the little spoon.”

“I get to touch you,” B immediately retorts. “On the genitals.”

“But not in a way that sexually excites,” L cuts in, rapid fire. B grins at him. L stares back.

“Deal.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as the two disappear, Light steps out for the bathroom. It takes an immense amount of effort to keep his face rigid, the way it should be at all times until he’s somewhere private, locked click shut behind him. In the bathroom mirror, his face warps into a scowl. He lets himself look like something hateful for precisely 60 seconds. Then he smoothes everything back into place, checks his jawline.

He’s got the perfect face. There’s people out there who would pay thousands of dollars to have a face like his.

The investigation team stop whispering about something as soon as he comes in, as if he couldn’t possibly be on the other side of the door listening in on them all, as if Rem, his best chess piece in this great game they were all playing, didn’t have the human ability to hear things.

“Everything alright?” he asks Matsuda, the stupidest of the bunch. It’s Aizawa who speaks and not at him.

“Chief.” Aizawa’s gotten a lot bolder since he cut, ran, and came back with a police team siren blaring and strong behind him. “What do you make of this B character? Knowing nothing about the investigation, he came in here and immediately decided that Light is Kira, exactly the same conclusion L has had from the beginning.”

Light scoffs in his head. His dad knows nothing. How could his father possibly know anything that he himself does not know? They were acting like catty, little animals - passive aggressive at best.

Before Soichiro Yagami can answer, Light laughs, high and artificial. “I find it hilarious that L would hire an actor. He must be really attached to his theory that I am Kira.”

“You don’t think that L hired him, do you?” Matsuda sounds shocked. Good. That meant this was credible and sinking in. “Though he’s been known to do things like this in the past…”

It would look better to not deem Matsuda with a proper reply, Light decides and sits down, gracefully, at his office chair. He needs to time to think, doesn’t have time to bother with plebeians. “I have no idea what L is thinking or how he thinks. If I did, I wouldn’t be his primary suspect now, would I?”

 

* * *

 

L makes B take a shower before letting him in his bed. God knows where B has been and he’s just had his sheets washed, sterilized, and dried through the world’s most efficient washing machine, of Wammy’s very own invention.

When B comes back, he’s warm. He was always warm, or maybe L was just always cold.

L flinches when B gets in the bed and doesn’t get in until the last possible moment, when B’s humming a tuneless song and patting the space between his legs. “Here Poppy, Poppy, Poppy…”

“Stop that. It’s unattractive,” L tells him while getting into place. Immediately, B snakes a hand around his stomach and grabs on tight. “No petting. It wasn’t part of the agreement.”

“Yes, ma’am,” B murmurs and guides their bodies down so that they’re horizontal, his hand still in L’s. L can’t decide if the prospect of letting go or holding on is more terrifying. “Open your legs,” B barks while he’s considering this problem. “You said I could touch you on your private parts.”

L does as he’s told and guides B’s hand down. All B does is cup his balls gently. He forgot that B was always gentle in bed, even when he’s choking, spanking, thrusting.

They stay like that and B has literally got him by the balls. L remembers all the times they’ve done this before. The position feels like home and every time it happens, he feels like he will sink softly into B’s body until they’re just two, differently sized and facing portions of the same person. He wonders why it hasn't happened yet.

B presses a kiss to the back of his neck and it’s not part of the agreement but L lets him.

Ten, fifteen minutes pass and there’s a whisper, a familiar voice, in his ear. “You’re going to die.”

L’s eyes snap open. He’d dozed off, something extremely dangerous to do when B was in the same room as him and something he always made the mistake of doing whenever B showed up out of the blue. It takes a second for him to realize that the voice is just B pretending to be a ghost.

“I didn’t say you could talk,” says L, ignoring the way B drags a thumb over his cock, which was thankfully still soft.

“I heard you took my name,” B keep going, “In all but a legal sense.”

This is something L can talk about with B. He grew up on this, this squabbling over names, passing as each other’s identities despite them not being biological twins,.

“I tried to be a pop star first,” he says. “It didn’t stick.”

B traced something on L’s hip. It felt either soothing or hypnotic. “Of course not. It takes rigorous training to be an effective pop star, which you are clearly too lazy to go through. Can you run in high heels and sing at the top of your lungs? I didn’t think so. Besides, you’re too old.”

“You told him my name,” L mumbles, just for something to say, shifting against B. He’s grabbed immediately on the thigh, as if B’s afraid he will roll out of bed and out of the room.

“Oh please. Your anonymity was a sad accident. It’s not my fault that everyone assumes L is a pseudonym.”

L contemplates leaving. There’s no reason not to cut this perverse cuddling session short. He’s a busy guy and there’s a lot on his plate right now.

“What I want to know,” B starts as if he knows exactly what L is thinking, “is why you didn’t keep going after the girl.”

“She’s not the weaker link,” L retorts, having already considered this issue.

“He’s going to use her to kill you,” B says as if it weren’t obvious. “Maybe not her directly even. He’s probably going to use the Shinigami, who is so obviously with him but not for reasons she’d like to be made public. The poor thing and that heartless girl. Meanwhile, M always stands for back up. _He_ won’t even get his hands dirty.”

“As if he ever would,” L yawns.

Satisfied with the warmth of the moment, B is all eager hands. “So, what would you like me to do about it?”

L shifts just slightly, so B has to loosen his grip on him. “Preferably? Nothing.”

Seconds go by and L lets them.

“You’re depressed,” B accuses. His tone is flat, unimpressed, and entirely without empathy. It’s time for L to get out of there and he makes his move with all the sluggishness of a sloth. It takes no effort for B to pin him down.

“Excuse me,” L says.

“Yes, excuse you.” It must be a horrible day because B is smiling, laughing, rejoicing. “I’ll take over this investigation, then, if you’re not feeling completely well, thank you very much.”

All L can really see is the ceiling and there’s a spider crawling along it somehow. It’s a miracle that such a brainless thing managed to get through all his security systems. Spiders always, he remembers, travel in twos. There was another one around here somewhere and, together, they were meant to suck all the flies dry.

Security was too tight for any flies to get in. It wasn’t like L had designed windows on this self made prison. Most likely, the spider would die from starvation by the end of the week.

“Fine,” he agrees, throwing his own competency far, far away. “But by de facto only. No one in their right mind is going to listen to anything that a serial killer tells them.”

 

* * *

 

When L comes back, he’s alone and slightly rumpled. Light hates the way he looks when he’s like that, when he hasn’t gone to bed in days or just sitting in it like he’s waiting for the sun to rise. The way L looks at those moments makes Light want to take a knife and flay him alive, the good old fashioned way.

Aizawa rounds him up. “L, who was that guy?”

“Do you know him?” Matsuda asks uselessly.

L doesn’t look at any of them. He thinks he’s too good to acknowledge anyone as an equal, of course. Only once he’s back in his chair, blinking at the empty monitors, does he say, “That was Beyond Birthday, otherwise known as Rue Ryuuzaki or B, the perpetrator of the LABB Murder Cases. He is responsible for the deaths of the individuals Believe Bridesmaid, Quarter Queen, and Backyard Bottomslash. I am afraid that I must now inform everyone that B has managed to escape my guard. There is also a 70% chance that he is still in the building.”

It’s such a lie. Light can see it getting passed off. L doesn’t even care if it’s a passable one.

“So,” Light’s father re-enunciates after L explains the situation, “You’re telling us that there is a serial killer right here in this building, right in these walls?” Matsuda is cowering.

L stares right at Light. “Yes, Yagami-san. I’m afraid that this is the sad and honest truth.”

 


	2. a perpetual service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L sends Light on a fool's mission and makes big moves without actually doing too much.

Despite the protests of the task force, Watari forcefully recommends the immediate evacuation of headquarters.

“Beyond Birthday is an extremely dangerous individual who has shown no remorse, even years after his first murders. In fact, his style seems to just get more extreme over time,” Watari reassures them. It’s utter bullshit. This is some play of L’s and hell would freeze over before Light fell for it.

His father is an obstacle but Light knows better than to scurry out like a bug with orders. It doesn’t matter that L’s plan probably depends on his resistance to evacuation because he’s better than L and he will turn the thing around until it’s his trap and L won’t even see it coming. Nothing can stop him now because he’s already won. He endured 150 days just for this.

“I’m committed to bringing Kira to justice. I have to stay at headquarters no matter what.” he tells his father, waiting for L to back him up. He doesn’t, just keep staring blankly at their arguing bodies like the whole father-son dynamic was a new one for him.

“Light.” Light’s father is moved. “I understand your feelings but you won’t get a chance to catch Kira if this murderer finds you first. And to stay here, with L, without even any sort of backup…”

“That’s exactly why I need to stay,” Light tells L by talking to his father. “L is here. If L is willing to risk his life in the face of danger, I would be less than L if I hid. That being said, I understand the necessity of caution in a situation like this one. However, I have made my decision.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as the task force is gone, Light starts to pace. It's a subtle pace because he's walking at a leisurely pace and picking things up to do at intervals but L has a very clear vision of anxiety even when it's severely repressed.

B is the joker that entered his hand at exactly the right moment. The worst thing that could happen to any god is to be killed by some clown. Kira is elegant justice enacted or cultural genocide, depending on who is asking, and B is cheap horror in a, well, b movie. L is just some kid in a costume asking for candy on Halloween.

"Did you have sex with that guy?" Light asks him. L has thoroughly prepared himself for any question but mostly this one.

He responds, "Why would you ask me that?”

"To establish your relationship with this Beyond Birthday, the second Ryuuzaki, the serial killer who is somewhere loose in this building." Light grits out whiling pouring out a cup of tea for himself with steady hands. It makes L wonder if there's anything that would spook him at all. If he were Light he would be terrified of B but maybe that was why he isn't Light.

"Of course not. I have a healthy fear of sex with B specifically," says L. "Didn't you see him?”

The next moment, Light takes his tea back to his desk and does something L really hadn't been seen him do before. His eyes slide all over L's body, slow and sleazy - appraisingly. L wishes that Light would start to act his age.

"Would you have sex with him?" L counters. Yes, he's making fun of Light. It's the only thing he has left and his whole strategy relies on it.

Light turns immediately to his computer where he's doing god knows what. Nothing on there was going to help him catch B. "Don't be ridiculous. Anyway, he didn't ask me.”

L just watches him tap on keys for a minute. "Well, I suppose this makes B more of your problem than mine. Hypothetically, if B were to find me in a murderous fervor, we would at least have a few minutes for me to attempt an escape as I would have the opportunity to engage in extracurricular activities, should B consent. The results are far more likely to be quickly tragic on your end.”

"Don't be morbid," Light tells him. "It's obvious you're not the one he's after." Of course. If Light thought B would kill L, he’d have happily left with the rest of the police force and let his work get cut out for him. As it is, it's obvious why he stayed. The opportunity to make sure L stays dead with a serial killer on the run in the same building is too good to pass up. There was no way Light would let L out of his sight at this stage in the game, if Light is Kira.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Once, B planned a winter serenade for me. He blackmailed actors into playing my resurrected parents, spent weeks on a grinch costume he made me wear at knifepoint, and gave me the twelve days of Christmas in a literal sense. Turns out, he put cyanide in the eggnog. What began as a kind gesture ended up as two missing persons and twelve dead geese. He's always been after me in some sense or another.”

"And yet you survived," Light reminds him.

L doesn't miss a thing. "Like I said, tragic.”

L has B like Light has Rem, but it's a tricky gambit because no one really _has_ B. Just as easily, B would happily trade in one life for another and L would be the one to end up on the floor somewhere with a Japanese sword sticking out his stomach for all he knew, was what he was trying to say. He could only hope that Light's wayward piece in all of this was just as full of tricks.

"Maybe you ought to go look for him," L suggests, "Since you decided to stay and all. We both know all you're doing on that computer right now is playing Solitaire now that Yotsuba's turned into a dead end.”

Light doesn't move. "Why aren't you looking?”

"Bad knees," says L, eating a panda cookie. "And I'm more of the armchair detective type. Please look for him, Light-kun. This investigation is relying on your efforts. There’s no telling what he's up to even as we speak. He could be chewing on electrical wires, deleting months of research, or even setting fire to integral parts of this building.”

To L's relief, Light gets up. "You're a pathetic waste of space of a human being," He tells L. "There's honestly no reason for your existence on earth except to consume copious amounts of precious resources better left to decent people. You’re using me for something and I’m going to figure out what as soon as your back is turned, even if it’s just for a second.”

L says nothing to this because what Light has just said is both the truth and a completely accurate prediction of what’s to come. All he can do is watch Light walk away, loafers click clacking on the floor and enjoy another panda cookie.

"So this Beyond Birthday," Light asks when he's almost out the door, "How did he kill his victims? What is he after?”

"Strangled one, blunt force, quartered another. You'd think he'd quarter Quarter Queen but no. He did the last one like that. Sometimes B seems chaotic but it's just because he really knows his material. It’s hard to describe what his intentions in the whole murder business were, given that he is insane. Everything B does follows the logic of madness, not reason. Please do be careful out there, Light-kun.”

 

* * *

 

The bedroom L has shared with Light for the past few months is tidy on one side, a mess of sheets taken off the bed and crumbs on the other. The crumbs are from L and the sheets have been almost pulverized by B. Watari hadn't had the time to come in before he evacuated, then.

“Interview the shinigami. You know you're the only one in the world with the amount of personal style to pull that one off with flair,” B had told him before he cut the lights. It was a precaution, of course, in case anyone looked at the security footage in the hall. B is right. L was born with a demeanor that said he is heartbroken to the world. 

“Rem,” L had asked the shinigami as soon as he got rid of Light, “If it is possible, I would like us to spend some time together to discuss the fate of Amane Misa.” She had taken the bait and bit, of course she did. Good for her. It was likely that she was the human of all the bodies left in the building.

Now they are in L’s bedroom that he shares with Light, the only room without a live monitor in the whole building. Never in his life did L claim to be fair, only calculating and efficient.

“The difference between you and me,” says L, “is that you care unconditionally for Amane Misa and I do not.”

Rem squints at him and L finds shinigami exceptionally difficult to read.

“Another difference,” he continues, “is that I am bound to the laws of the human world while you are not.”

“Yes,” Rem responds this time. “This is true.”

“And, so, I must ask you.” L looks right into Rem’s eye. “Is there a set of rules of the shinigami world which control you but are meaningless to me?”

It takes a moment of consideration before Rem nods again.

L take a pause and stares at the wall before responding. “I see.” He’s not thinking. He’s stalling. “Rem, is death a part of this world or the shinigami's world?”

L decides that he doesn’t find shinigami difficult to read - he finds that impossible to read. So he waits, barely blinking, and Rem stands very still.

“We shinigami do not think about these things,” Rem answers.

“What about love?” Love, L mentions candidly, like it's just a fact of life as natural as four quarters making a dollar or cats having a litter box. “Specifically, the love you feel for Amane Misa?” L may not be able to read shinigami but he can tell when the tone of a conversation shifts and that is now. The long yellow eye atop Rem's large head freezes and narrows. He continues in a haste. ”And would you say that Amane Misa loves Kira or Yagami Light more?”

"L," The shinigami pronounces. "I have no interest in getting involved in whatever game you and Yagami Light are playing against each other.”

There's no use in telling someone who's already knee deep in shit that they are already at a point where they need assistance in getting out of a dire situation, just like there's no use telling someone like Amane Misa to not fall in love with serial killers. L just lets his face sag. Perpetual heartbreak doesn't just look natural on him, it's the only thing that makes him look good.

"I would never ask that of you, Rem. However, I believe you have interest in getting Amane Misa out of her current predicament, if that is at all still possible.”

This is the moment to make to leave the room, if he were dealing with anyone else. However, this was a timeless creature he was dealing with and all L can draw from is his experience that living creatures tend to age into infantilism.

"Amane Misa is in love with Yagami Light," Rem says. "There is nothing you or I could do to change this fact.”

L take this moment to smile at her in what he hopes to be an empathetic look. These types of things were never his expertise. It was why he had B in the first place.

"The thing about people like Amane Misa," He tries, "Is that they will continue to love despite the lack of reasonable circumstances. Amane Misa has had a horrible life, filled with pain. Should Amane Misa stay in her current predicament, she would be willing to do anything and everything for Yagami Light, including getting arrested and executed as Kira, for example. Love does nothing for her and yet, she clings to it as if it were a plastic lifeboat in a sea of nuclear waste.”

"That's an underhanded compliment," Rem catches and tells him.

For a second, L realizes that he has no idea how long he has left before Rem decides to kill him.

Because he is self deprecating, L thinks that no one would mourn him if he died. Watari hadn’t cried for A or B and he wouldn’t cry for him. B would just laugh and laugh and laugh until his face was full of salt and tears. LA wasn’t the first time B had feigned his own death. It was his favorite thing to do when they were younger and, the first few times, L had felt completely empty inside. Now, dying was B’s thing and it wouldn’t be fair if L did it too.

"It is and I apologize. In the words of Roland Barthes, love is a perpetual game of waiting." L springs from his bed, suddenly livened, and heads to the window, pulls the blinds up. He could talk in abstract circles all day. ”Rem, do you enjoy being in love with someone who does not love you?”

There's no presence behind him. Shinigami do not have physical weight the way humans do.

When L first saw Light on the security monitors, he’d thought to himself, _What a fine, young gentlemen who was obvious stuck in a hypothetical closet and would most likely be all his life._

"Love is the only thing keeping Misa alive.”

Outside, it is raining. L hadn't realized. He decides that it would be obtuse to ask whose.

"Love is nothing but undeserved emotional labor performed historically by women for men." Saying this is a gamble but L thinks that Rem is female. "And never has the definition of love included in itself reciprocation. In fact, the purest love is one that yearns. Amane Misa is the perfect symbol of this type of love.”

The water leaves streaks on the windows. Watari would have to hire people to come up on harnesses and clean it, thousands of feet in the air. When L turns around, he expects Rem to already have left the room. He's wrong.

"You have given me something to think about," Rem informs him. "For the time being, I will not kill you. However, I will also not confirm nor deny your suspicion that Yagami Light is Kira.”

There's no time to feel shock before lightening strikes and the room turns chiaroscuro.

"I wouldn't expect even anything like that," answers L. "All I ask of you is to keep your eyes open and to speak to Yagami Light before making any decisions. I trust him implicitly.”

 

* * *

 

As long as he survives this night, Light would be in the clear. He could hardly celebrate now. There is a serial killer, one obsessed with L, loose and it is almost too good to be true. All Light has to do is make sure he doesn’t go down as company. When they found L's body, Light needs to stay a hero, not a martyr and not a villain. That would be the right time to stuff a smile down his throat and take up mourning - not now.

Light is trying to tell if the dark shape in front of him is a human shape or a cabinet when someone hits him in the head.

“Boo."

Fuck.

Whatever hit him, it was and dense, heavy. However, Light's got the gun he'd made sure to grab sitting in it's holster and knows exactly how to use it. It's times like this that being the son of a policeman comes in handy.

"Are you sure you know how to use that thing?”

B, holding a fire extinguisher, stomps on his hand hard. If so much as a pinky is broken Light is going to have to strangle him.

"Kira-kun. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”

The thing is crawling over him now and Light is enraged. He could get one good knee right between the balls and the gun to B’s head if he manages to shift his weight.

"Oh no," says B. "You don't want to be doing that, Kira-kun. This wouldn't hold up in court as permissible self defense.”

"Like hell it won't." He was going to kill this bastard.

B smiles a wide, unnerving smile then and it's enough to make Light feel cold.

"That's very funny, Kira-kun. I never would have you pegged as a funny guy. So stoic, so serious, like a statue but Japanese. Are there Japanese statues? You never hear about them. All part and protocol of colonialism's erased history, I suppose. Anyways, you’re a top notch student, are you not? Oh, L’s always had a type. He's got a hard on for kinds of tops - top notches, top knots, and even table tops.”

“I'm not funny, you cunt,” Light grits out. "And you have no proof that I’m Kira.”

B leans closer and Light physically feel the need to get away, as far as possible. What holds him in place, besides B's death grip, is the misplaced gaze. B stares at the space right above his head. Crazy fucker.

"You'd be surprised. Gleefully surprised, in fact. It might have even held up in court, seeing what tatters our judicial system has become, if I hadn’t gotten that insanity order a while back.” B says the last bit like the legal system is the least of his worries.

"Let me go," Light tries because he can't get up, is dizzy and hatefully weak from what was probably a concussion.

"Of course I will." The phrase is said in a high and fluid voice, somewhere between soothing and terrifying. "But first, let me tell you a story about me and L from when we were just wee lads in the British countryside. Aren't you interested? I've seen you gaze longingly at his backside, you know. I know you have the _hots_ for him. You want to get him alone, tell him he's pretty, and _rape_ him.”

This is preposterous and Light still can't move. "No I don’t."

"Shush, little boy. Don't interrupt me when I'm trying to teach you a lesson. You don’t want to antagonize me. You want to figure out a way to deescalate the situation, remember? Anyways, me and L…oh, we weren't satisfied when banal necessities, the two of us. One of us was born on Halloween and the other on Friday the 13th. We would run off in the middle of the night and hitch by the road. l charged 20 pounds for a blowjob but L gave his for free. The main event too. This was a kid who was absolutely killing the stock market and here he was sucking and taking cock for absolutely nothing. Isn't that a nice image?”

"I don't believe you," says Light.

B looks at him disapprovingly.

"The thing about me, you'll come to find is that I always tell the truth and nothing but and no one ever believes me. It's because of my curse, of course.”

The guy was obviously out of his mind so Light figures he can let his run his mouth while he recovers from his headache and figures out how to get in control of the situation.

"Getting fucked was L's most favorite thing in the world. You should see him when there's something hard hitting his male prostate over and over. Oh, he meows like a _queen_. Can't come without it, no matter how hard his cock is. He's a slut for dick, did you know? Can you imagine?”

Light is about to say that, no, he can't but B puts a finger, surprisingly soft, to his lips.

"No, don't answer that. What I actually want you to do is close you mouth and eyes. Now, imagine what L must taste like under that antiseptic demeanor of his. Tie him up in your mind’s eye and put your hands around that nice little neck he has. Are you seeing it? You'd be able to slap him on the face as you fuck the helpless thing in front of you if you did it in that position, just _slap slap slap_ until his cheeks turn blue and black. He bruises easily, like a peach.”

Something horrible gathers at the pit of Light's stomach and it doesn't go away when B gets off of him, holds out a hand, sneer twitching on his ugly mug.

“I'll see you to the main room, then," B tells him as he leaves, "Now that you've officially caught me once and for all.”

 

* * *

 

L and Rem are right where Light left them when he walks in, right behind B. It’d have been less suspicious if one of them had shifted slightly. Light can tell immediately that they’d been talking behind his back. It doesn’t matter. One thing L could never pervert was the immeasurable weight of female devotion.

"Ah, I see that you've found him," says L, twirling a hand up in the air without turning around. "Nothing short from what I'd expect from the Japanese police force's best and brightest intern.”

The death note isn't on the table anymore. Light doesn't know where it is. It hardly matters at this point.

"He wasn't hiding." Light tells L about B.

"Oh, he's always hiding something.”

"I can assure you, that I only hide in plain sight," responds B. "I have never had a secret. Total transparency has always been my model. Can you say the same, Kira-kun?”

Before Light can tell B to stop calling him that, Rem is speaking up.

"Yagami Light, I would like to discuss something in private with you.”

What is she doing? She knows that the two people in the room suspect him, one of them has the power to put him to death, and never shown any sign of wishing to waver from that very plan. She was supposed to figure out what she needs to figure out without his fucking help. There's no way he would be ducking into a room with a shinigami alone now or anytime soon.

Light glares at B. ”What is it, shinigami? I'm sure there's nothing you would say to me that you could not say in front of everyone here.”

"Forcing everything to come to the surface," B rambles without reason, "That's always been my purpose. I’m super great at what I do, by the way. By the time I'm done, you'd think nothing has depth.”

Rem is glaring at Light in a way that makes him seethe. Why can't she be more like Misa and just do what Light needs her to do?

"To all the humans present," Rem says, looking straight at Light. “I wish to announce that I will not be using my own death note at any time in the near future to kill any of the people present in this room. Though this is subject to change, I would require good reason to go back on my word.”

This was L, of course it was. Light had been distracted with B and his useless mouth so that L could go and make his plea with the shinigami and Rem just had to be the way she is. If she could fall for Misa, then how could Light not think she could be manipulated by L?

Presently, Light keeps his face firm and voice breezy. "Of course not, shinigami. We have never believed you had cause to kill any of us.” Except she does. If they continue with the investigation now, it is on Light to save Misa from the death penalty. _If Misa's lifetime is shortened or if she dies before her death date_ , Rem had told him quite clearly, _I will kill you._

Light fucking hates L. For a moment, he considers an unclean death, not just in fantasy, the kind criminals carry out and God does not.

"What happens to him?" Light asks L of B. The sooner he gets rid of the brawn side of L's whole operation, the sooner he can get back to work.

"Oh please, we both know that B is the most innocent of all the killers present in the room,” says L, "including myself. He only seems the most morally corrupt because he is over sexualized.”

B bats his eyes like an American Girl Doll and slinks in a corner. "I'm at your total mercy, my love. Do onto me what you'd have daddy do onto you.”

Carefully, Light sits down in his old spot next to L. It's a power move. You can't prove anything and you know it.

"So, you'd rather let one escaped convict go just to to prove some hunch you have, one that may or may not be true." He laughs, lightly, true to his name. When he lets himself look, L's eyes are saucers and trained right on him.

"The doors to this building are locked," L tells him, “in a way that cannot be unlocked in any way from the inside. There is only one key on the outside and it is in the possession of Watari. He has been instructed to never open the doors at any circumstances unless given a code which I, alone, have stored in my memory. In any other situation, the doors will remain closed. There is enough food inside to last three people for up to 30 days, provided that we do not engage in strenuous activity. In the event of my death, Watari has been instructed to demolish this building without evacuation.”

Sometime in the last minute, B had slid up behind Light. "Don't worry, honey-bunny," he whispers right into Light's ear. "I won't be able to go out and on that killing spree I'd been just thinking about, not until this is all settled for my dear, dear Lollipop Little.”

 

* * *

 

They go to bed and everything looks like an Edward Hopper painting, intonation evacuated and everything else fleshed out to full light. There had hardly been time to get Light settled in a new room and all his clothes were in this one, tucked away neatly in exactly half of the closet where L's shirts were all somewhere on the floor. B had been severely jealous and L had to lock the door, not that it would do any good if B really wanted to try something.

"Honestly, I don't see what you're getting out of this," says Light. L can tell that he’s completely furious. ”You're going to find out after 13 days that Kira's somewhere out there and you've just spent two weeks locked up with people you hate for nothing.”

"Light-kun overestimates what he means to me," answers L. "Hate is a severely strong emotion. I haven't considered the possibility of liking or disliking Light-kun.”

The glare Light gives him is enough to burn but it doesn't. Then, Light just changes into pajamas like it’s any other night, which is unsatisfying.

"Where's your friend sleeping?”

"I assume you mean the mass murderer Beyond Birthday, with whom I have no association.”

"Yes, him. Who else? Where is he?”

"Does the presence of another man in my life make Light-kun anxious?" Now L was just being obnoxious and he knew it. Light knew it too because all he does is give him a scathing look.

"Believe what you want, I'm going to sleep," says Light and turns off the lamp. L is left in the dark, groping for the sheets that are somewhere next to the bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, this entire fic is sets of power plays more than anything because all these characters, except B who is so very tender, are completely garbage. So, it's going to take a while for things to build up to that point where everything explodes. Meanwhile, enjoy some furious Light and defeated L who isn't even defeated.
> 
> I love Beyond Birthday so much. It's amazing that he exists.
> 
> On the other hand, I just found out the Kim Junsu plays L in the Death Note musical and am so excited? Anyone else here stan DN and DBSK?


	3. the games we play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light, L, and B play some games and Light gets extremely frustrated.

The next day, B wants to play a game. Two truths and a lie - of course he does. His whole life has been a truth and a lie.

They're settled at the kitchen table like they're the three bears and Goldilocks is somewhere out there, writing the names of the dead in a notebook and dressed Gothic Lolita. L thinks that he would be the medium bear. He's not sure whether Light or B would be the tiny one.

"Ooh, it's chilly in here," B says, too elated and too awake too early in the morning. It is freezing.

"The heat's been turned off," observes L.

B just looks smug. "I turned it off. Thought it'd be the perfect intro to an ice breaker game.”

"We won't be able to turn it on again. not without Watari's key.”

Light sips coffee, one cream and no sugar, with a disgusted look on his face. "You've got to be kidding me.”

L just bites casually into a croissant. "If there's no gas, then we can't cook either. Or get hot water.”

B screams bloody murder then, at the two of them to shut up, that they're here under a hostage situation, and that he was the one in charge. If they were going to keep misbehaving then he was going to have to tie them to their chairs or punish them. The thought of this makes L feel faintly nostalgic.

"Fine," Light just says. "Let's get this over with." L sits back and waits for the inevitable and worst.

B takes it slow. He studies Light intensely and doesn't blink while he does it. Then, like rapid fire because B's always been horrible with competition, "You've gone on a date with someone you are not in love with, you're responsible for the deaths of thousands of criminals, and you're in the habit of wearing nothing in bed.”

Light, bless him, is just annoyed. "That's not actually how you play two truths and a lie.”

"I make the rules here," snarls B.

"That's how we've always played," agrees L because he's decided to be obtuse today.

Light sighs. It makes him look petulant. "Fine. Well, obviously it's number two. I am hardly responsible for the death of a single person, that I am aware of and you can hardly claim to be in love with someone after a single date.”

B grins like an idiot. " _Number two_. So you sleep in the nude?”

L licks the rim of his coffeecup in an accidentally suggestive manner and gets B's attention that way.  "Leave him alone," he says and "Do me next." Like a juvenile, B giggles hysterically.

"Okay, okay." B's almost ecstatic with pleasure because it's been a while since L's asked for this. "Your mom killed herself because she couldn't stand you, you were raised with self punishing Protestant values that haunt you even to this day, and we once had sex on an altar when I was fourteen and you were sixteen.”

The coffee in L's hands is cooling, going to waste. L blinks at his refection in the cup. "This is all so subjective. It really depends on how you define sex and Protestant values. Both are cornerstones of a western tradition I was, unfortunately, raised within.”

B accepts the answer. “Kira-kun?"

Light looks about 90% done with this conversation. "Don't call me that. I guess the second one again. the other two seem characteristic of L.”

"You think that I was such an unbearable child that I caused my own mother's suicide?" L asks.

"So did you," Light points out.

"And you would believe that I let B fuck me on an object of worship?”

"The fact that you just made it more explicit gives it more credibility.”

When L looks, Light is smirking just a little. He’s come to look older than he did a few weeks ago despite him having been released from a ten foot chain recently. L supposes that freedom has historically been the heaviest burden.

"Fine, but it's my turn." says L. He stares at Light but talks about B. "When B was five, I caught him giving my beloved pet guinea pig a live vivisection. The last time I saw him in person, he was in federal prison. What got him eventually kicked out of Wammy's was a sexual relationship with one of the staff members, one who was nearing fifty.”

L lets B smirk in his corner and waits for Light to answer.

"The first one," Light guesses. "I can't see you keeping a pet alive long enough for it to get vivisected," he tells L, who accepts the answer.

"Touché. B?”

B looks less than happy. "You cheated. All of these are lies. You would never fucking visit me prison and the term "guinea pig" could metaphorical.”

"You were wearing tan," L informs him, deadpan.

"Congratulations on watching Orange is the New Black.”

"You shaved the front part of you hair. It looked like you had a receding hairline.”

"It's growing back funny. You're very observant.”

"A cell mate lost an eye because you became pathologically jealous of the torn page from a porn magazine that he'd tape to the walls and you spent the rest of your stint in quarantine. It was a picture of a luscious brunette wearing nothing but a garter belt.”

Impressed, B's eyelashes flutter. "Oh, you did your research" He's delighted. "But, see, I already knew it was number three. Nobody at Wammy's would blink an _eye_. Let Kira-kun take a go," he barks like it's an order.

"I don't answer to that," Light tells him. “Was I right?”

"You just did," L informs him and high fives B. “And do you really want to know? It might set B off.”

Sighing, Light just plays up his superiority complex. It's an incredibly childish look on him. "Whatever. Fine. When I was four, Sayu slammed a door on my hand. My mother's maiden name is Muramatsu. I've never been to a hot spring.”

Both L and B, synchronized, blink at him like he's lost his mind.

"Light-kun," L says gently. "You're not very good at this game, are you?”

B just scoffs, waves the last few seconds away, and starts showing off. "There's an imminent cork shortage upon us," he lists off robotically. "Red paint is the most dangerous in terms of toxicity. The banana industry causes human infertility in the Philippines to this day.”

Before L can tell B that red is a color, not a pigment and that its toxicity level would depend heavily on wheher it it was sourced from natural dyes or created synthetically, Light gets up. "You can play your stupid children's games by yourself," he lets the two of them. "I have more important things to worry about, like figuring out how to stop Kira.”

As he leaves, B gives a low whistle. "Who stuck that stick up that fine piece of ass?"

 

* * *

 

Once, when L was ten and B was eight, B read Fight Club and deployed a two year long strategy to make L believe that he was a figment of L's imagination and that schizophrenia was impending on him. Part of that strategy was the destruction of all his personnel files from Wammy's, which he had done thoroughly and meticulously. Next, he'd paid Roger and the other staff members off so they'd deny he ever existed. After two years, L still wasn't completely convinced though, when B asked him about it, he'd admitted that, with all evidence considered, it was a plausible enough possibility that he'd at least considered it at some point.

"What gave me away?" B had demanded.

L just rolled his eyes. "The money trail. I subpoenaed Roger's finances. $50,000 from an unknown source every month? Wouldn't you call that a little inconspicuous? I suspected either you or that Roger was involved with a drug cartel ring popular at the time.”

Even after that, however, B refused to stop. He held wherever it was he slept in utter secrecy and refused to speak to anyone directly except L, even after L started paying the staff double what B was giving them to get them to stop ignoring him.

"Stop it," L told him. "I'll give you money," and he'd offered an obscene amount.

And that was how B had managed to wrangle his first kiss with L.

By the end of it, B was absolutely convinced that he was in love but nothing he could do or say would ever manage to convince L that he meant it.

 

* * *

 

After a long and relaxing shower, one of the things he'd missed most when imprisoned to L's left arm, Light flosses his teeth, perfect and white, sprays on cologne, Martin Margiela, and heads to the main room.

He's stopped by Rem who has been haunting the halls like a real ghost. There's surveillance monitors everywhere and Light can't afford to engage in small talk with a death god now. He tries to cruise past, isn’t exactly successful.

"Excuse me, shinigami.”

"Yagami Light. When we spoke three months ago, you assured me that Misa's fate was secure in your hands.”

There's no blindspot to the monitors. Light knows because he had checked them all himself. There was no way he was going to talk to Rem - she was really thick if she couldn’t see that there were some things better for him to leave alone and for her to figure out.

"Shinigami, you must have gotten me mixed up with someone else. However, I assure you that I will take care of my girlfriend if she is in any danger.”

Why couldn't have Misa ended up with someone more like Ryuk? Ryuk was easy to handle. All he wanted was a good show and Light was always more than willing to deliver.

"I would like to know," she says, "What you think about the concept of love, Yagami Light.”

After all that has happened in the past few days, Light wonders if it's disproportionate to consider this the most annoying. There's a muscle under his eye that hasn't bothered him for months now that begins to twitch.

"Love is an emotion," he tells Rem dryly. "It requires sacrifice and devotion. For example, I am willing to sacrifice myself to the Kira case for love of the world.”

Rem stands dumbly and Light is about to turn and go when a bright idea strikes him, as they're prone to do in the early hours of the morning.

"Shinigami," he tells Rem. "I also believe that love is the ability to know someone. For example, because I know and love Misa, I can say without doubt that she would like to be proved innocent in this farce of a Kira investigation. And I will do whatever is in my power to make sure that this outcome is the only one possible.”

Seed planted, Light leaves the hallway and Rem does not follow. It's long walk to the main room and Light's eyes are blurring, ears burning. The shinigami has no right to challenge him about Misa when she wasn't doing her job. He was doing what he was supposed to be doing - was born to do. He was making the world holy. If she couldn't see that Misa was in-circumstantial, then she was just another stupid face in need of a messiah, one that Light was quite willing to become. The only thing one needed to become the world’s savior was sheer dedication and hard work.

"-you're kidding," B is saying loudly as he enters the space. "All that time together and you deployed _none_ of the torture techniques at your disposal? Did you fuck him at least?”

L looks right at him as he slides past the door. "My main torture technique was prolonged exposure to myself without intermission.”

They stare at him walking through the room like a pair of siamese twins and Light thinks again about how it's people like this that make the world in need of saving.

"Ah, Light-kun," L greets. "I was worried that you took a hit during our breakfast engagement and wanted to apologize for any discouraged sentiments.”

Light thinks about what he has planned to do that day and smashing his fist against L's face. "I have no idea what you're talking about.”

"I thought I could make it up to you," L offers.

Teeth smashed together, Light tries to smile. "I'm positive you cannot as nothing happened.”

"We insulted your intelligence," B pipes in to spell it all out, "by forcing you to engage in a game designed solely for emotional humiliation. Your lack of consent was not acknowledged. In fact, I'd say that consent was actively discouraged in your case.”

"It's fine," Light forces himself to say.

"No, no." B swivels Light's chair around so he has to face them. "I mean it. I think we should play another game and, this time, let you win.”

If he could, Light would leave that second. As it stands, he cannot and Rem is just outside ready to wax poetic about _love_ now that she's been in the human world for a mere couple months.

"What game," he barks out.

B blinks at him with a blank stare, a practice perfect imitation of L. "Marry, fuck, kill. I picked to kill myself, of course. That's already said and done. L agreed with me. He also agreed that he would marry himself, the egotistical prick. It makes pragmatic sense. He's one of the most powerful and wealthy men in the world and, this way, he wouldn't have to go through all that effort of making some sorry bloke sign a pre nuptial. That leaves only one option left so what I'm really wondering is, Kira-kun or Arahi-kun or whatever you're calling yourself these days, _how good are you at fucking yourself_?”

Something in Light snaps then and he rises from his chair without realizing it, this close to putting his hand around B's throat. Thank god before he does it he remembers that B's just a puppet. There's someone behind him pulling strings and his name is just a letter. Light takes a deep breath and smiles. "Your games are juvenile and crass," he tells B.

L bats his eyelashes back, pulls a leg up, and scratches himself on the neck with a foot. "Please answer the question. We have a bet going.”

"$100,000," supplies B.

For a second, Light remembers the first time he saw L sleep. It happened two weeks into his imprisonment, back when they were still set on using both the beds in the room. Eventually, it had gotten tedious and they'd been forced to admit that the chain wasn't nearly long enough for the two of them to sleep comfortably separately.

He'd woken up too early to distressed moaning and, at first, he'd thought the chain had gotten caught around L's neck. When he glanced over, however, he'd discovered a horrible spectacle. L was laying there with his eyes closed with a full on erection. There was a dainty sheet, perfectly tented, spread across his hips. At the time, Light had assumed it was an accident and rolled over, stomach cramping up. Now, he realizes that the scene was set and executed with absolute intentionality.

"I suppose if my only options were the people in this room," Light answers, "I would kill you, B, since you are a mass murderer who has no intention of changing his ways and fuck L. Marriage is out of the question.”

The answer makes B happy - too happy. His whole face lights up and it's the most gruesome thing Light has ever seen. Canine teeth show and nostrils flare.

"Oh, I see. Marriage is sacred, which is why you would never do it. How nice. But fucking is absolutely necessary, a filthy fact of existence itself. Do you think about it often, Kira-kun? Fucking? How often do you defile yourself?”

The answer is no and of course not. Light didn't even masturbate. When L chained them together, he thought this would be an issue but it turned out that L didn't either.

"Of course I do," he tells B. "I am a healthy and normal eighteen year old male.”

"He's a healthy and normal eighteen year old male," B parrots back to L.

L says wistfully, "I always forget that he's actually a millennial,” and cracks his neck.

 

* * *

 

At his desk, Light is tuning them out by diving deep into work. It only takes a quick google search these days to find out that 50 people have died in the last few days. L's already looked into it. The feud between Kira and L have really made things so much more public. The drama of the conflict has only made the masses that much more obsessed with Kira.

"50 down," Light relays like an obedient little watch dog. "And there's a new app dedicated to exposing the names of lesser known criminals. Anyone can log in anyone else's name.”

"Like Facebook but for your murderous tendencies." L turns cynical. "The world wide web putting the power to kill in the hands of every civilian.”

From the floor between their chairs, B giggles a giggle that sounds like a cry. "Don't be ridiculous. The power to kill has been the most democratic tool in the box since the beginning of history.”

All L does in response is navigate his browser to the Neopets website. It's times like these that he remembers he has to feed his Neopets. "And murder so becomes just when it's got law and order on its side.”

B smirks. "I'd say it gets cheaper the more it's carried out en masse. There's something so satisfyingly intimate about knowing exactly how long you have to push an Exacto blade into someone's neck before they stop fighting back. Did you know that it'd very hard to hold onto one when there's blood gushing out everywhere?”

The thing L hates the most about himself, is his need to do tedious things, like feeding Neopets, while abstractly pondering about a world he barely lives in. The second thing he hates most about himself is his propensity towards self deprecation. Now that L's got an actual mass murderer in his company, there's no telling how far he'll let his delusions spread.

"You're both wrong," Light tells them. "Kira would never use uncertified sources to get his names. Anyone can post anything on there, regardless of whether it's accurate. It defeats Kira's whole purpose.”

Of course he would say that. It's a major fuck you to their entire situation at hand. Light thinks that if he can say "If I were Kira" enough times that someone was bound to pick up on the reverse psychology and believe him undeniably innocent. It just so happened that L doesn't believe in innocence.

Before he responds, L picks up free omelette at a virtual soup kitchen. Now his virtual, non existent animals will be well fed and healthy, due to the charity of an online algorithm. There's really no limit to his own appalling apathy. "That is because Kira is arrogant and barely thinks." That much was obvious. The choice Kira is making was not ideological and L would never allow it to be. This was simply a choice between free media technology and mass media. Dictators always leave themselves vulnerable to propaganda.

Something leans onto his foot and it's B's head. "A lover's spat. Cute," he whispers out enough for everyone to hear.

"Stop that," says L, hurriedly pulling his foot away.

Light looks calm but L has learned that he's at his most stuffy when he's fully pissed. "You are probably right. However, I would like to add that the choice between right and wrong is one that everyone has.”

There's no fairies offering L any special missions so he goes to play Destruct-o-match as per usual. "That's because you're privileged. Virtue is a trait of the middle class." That's because you're a stuffy little cunt, is what L means to say but doesn’t.

B chooses that moment to ramble, maybe because L denied him the pleasure of his foot. "Oh, L is anything but _middle class_. He'd never associate himself with something so _gauche_. He's like fine art - made in the depths of poverty for aristocratic approval. Like outsider art or industrial steel. If he lived in the 18th Century, he's be in an Oscar Wilde novel. He's part absinthe, ready to make you believe in all your dreams.”

"Stop that," L says again, embarrassed.

Light, maybe because of what L said earlier, gets particularly nasty. "Yes, stop that, B. He doesn't like it when he's scrutinized. He's sure there's many things wrong with his personality but also that no one is intelligent enough to see them but himself. He disdains being viewed as anything but an all encompassing entity. He's one of those assholes who can never be blamed because they're always simpering about their own assholery.”

The little monologue gets a fierce round of applause from B, that little smart ass. L accidentally slips his foot into B's ribcage.

"I believe this is a case of the pot calling the kettle black," L mumbles, "If one were to resort to cliches."

B makes L regret ever having kicked him by getting a hold of his foot and sinking his nails in.

"By your logic," Light tell him, "The kettle is also black.”

L tries to retrieve his foot from B so he can focus on googling inane things without being tickled. "Hence, the problem with cliches.”

"Spoken like a true aristocrat," B says, kisses his toes, and lets him go.

 

* * *

 

That night, L hangs back even when the clock shows midnight, 1 AM, 2 AM.

"I'll be going to bed now," Light tells him when he decides that it would be smarter to go to bed now and deal with everything that's happened in the morning with a clear head.

L turns to him. "Oh, B will be joining you tonight." It burns and Light knows that there's a smirk L's hiding in there - he just can't see it.

"What did you say?”

Sticking his tongue out, L takes the time to lick around the entire circumference of his mouth nastily. Just a minute ago, he'd been eating donuts coated with confectioners sugar. "B has expressed that he would like to spend a little time with you and I want to see how the two of you would interact when I'm not in the room. Is that okay, Light-kun?”

Oh course it fucking wasn't okay. This was definitely a threat and Light was damned if he was going to let them blindside him.

"Fine," he says.

L doesn't even flinch. "Are you positive? He is a serial killer and uncontrollable by nature. You have a right to be scared.”

The only thing Light was scared of was what he was going to do to L if he didn't stop running his mouth immediately.

"I'll be fine." If they wanted to make him cry uncle, he'd just show them how many ways he could resist doing it. "I have a gun.”

L looks understanding and it is a lie. "Please be careful, Light-kun. He is waiting for you in our bedroom, the only room in this building without cameras. Feel free to wear a wire, if it makes you feel safer and please remember - if the situation seems dire please treat B as if he were me. It is one of the only ways to truly soothe his violent tendencies.”

 

* * *

 

In the hallway, Light walks past Rem, knowing full well that L is watching him on the security cameras.

"I hope you thought about what I said," he mentions to her. "I'm going to bed now. Any disturbance would be detrimental to the investigation.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love AO3 for being a non-profit fan driven space but miss the community aspect of Livejournal. It seems like there is little interaction on here. If anyone is out there, please say hello! I'd love to hear from you.


	4. killing me slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L sics B on Light but doesn't get the consequences he's expecting.

There's no need to feel afraid of anything. Light is the god of the new world order and he doesn't need to feel fear of anything - it's other people who are supposed to be afraid of him.

When he gets in his bedroom, really L's bedroom that he's been allowed to share, the beds have been stripped and the mattresses stacked against the wall. The blinds had been pulled and all the debris and furniture in the room had been cleared out.

"You did all this?" Light asks the figure hunched in the corner with a duffle bag. B turns to him, face painted white and eyes lined with black.

"L told me to," he says. "He said to get rid of everything in here that can be used to hurt or maim another human being.”

Instead of letting the words send chills up his spine, Light leans against the wall near the door. "That's thoughtful of the two of you." He has a feeling that there was going to be no sleeping in store for tonight.

B takes a machete and baseball bat out of his bag. "He never said anything about bringing anything in.”

Light's feet tell him to flee but he's already this far in and has never been made a fool of in his entire life. This is not the day to begin and certainly not by some thug. If anything, he was going to show L that there are worse monsters than the ones he has in the back of his closet.

"I have a gun," he tells B who eyes his crotch area.

"Oh, I'm sure you do. Now close the door. It will automatically lock itself and only I have the key.”

Light does it without hesitating because he's not the type to hesitate. He just isn’t.

"And now," B announces in a circus ring leader's voice, "Let's talk about your girlfriend.”

This is where Light draws the line. He has nothing to hide. Talking about their girlfriends in depth is simply something normal men do not do and not something Light was taught. "Absolutely not.”

Bewilderment widens B's caked on eyes. "Oh. I thought you were in love with her.”

"Of course I am.”

"Is the shinigami here?" B asks suddenly.

Light hates to admit such things but he's caught off guard. "Of course not.”

"Let's talk about your blatant homosexuality," B says like he's mentioning the way Light favors khaki or the way he ties his tie.

Taking a few steps into the room, Light's head feels cold. "What are you talking about?”

The way B stands up is cartoonish, like he's Felix the cat and the animation warps him just slightly. Or maybe that was the silhouette lighting from the window. "I'm talking about all those boys you avoided in middle school, even now in high school, because it was all such a pretense. Boys getting so close, always sweaty, always rubbing against each other in play and fighting. Oh, boys are very tactile creatures. You would know.”

Light just blinks once. "It seems like you’re laying out a lot of repressed emotion right now for me, B.”

Picking up the machete, B flexes his arms and wrists like a skinny shadow. "Oh, I repress nothing. Like I said before, my job is to bring things to the surface. It's the principle of Freudian psychoanalysis. Recover by excavating trauma and luring it out into the sun to play - and I never have a shortage of games up my sleeve.”

B is just a thug and hardly going to anything but threaten him but Light checks the revolver on his belt just in case, ignoring the way B watches him do it like he's about to start to salivate. He takes a step closer to where B is standing.

At that moment, Rem drifts into the room, as she’s prone to do. B has not touched the death note and he should not be able to see her so Light blames the extra glint to his grin on a trick in the moonlight.

"Say what you want," he says loose and easy, "but I am dating one of the most beautiful women in the world and plan to take her as my wife one day.”

"Beautiful women are very gay," B replies. "Wouldn't you agree? Straight men want women who are just a little horrific, just a little dirty, and copious for proper society. They want a big ass and big tits and maybe even a cock between the legs too. That's what turns straight men on. Wouldn't you say that Misa Misa is a bit too concise for pleasurable play?”

It takes all of him for Light to not look at Rem. "She's fine. I mean, beautiful. Pretty.”

"But does she turn you on?”

"Of course she does." Light is livid. He takes a few more steps closer to B. If B is going to play with something sharp then he was going to toy with his gun.

"So you think about spreading those legs apart and teasing her clit until she's a wet mess? Sucking on those nipples when she's about to cum just to drive her crazy and putting your hard, _throbbing_ -"

Quickly, Light grabs the baseball bat left on the floor with every intention of knocking B out but, as soon as he's up, there's a machete between his eyes, B's Halloween-ish face peering close and personal.

"Oh, I'm surprised you didn't go for the gun," B tells him, breath the smell of death and sounding  almost genuine. "You could've had me there.”

Light should have gone for the gun, should have put a bullet in B's head from a distance but, as it stands, just drops the with both hands over his head like he was just kidding about trying to knock B out. "I don't think those things about Misa because I respect her.”

B's a centimeter from making a scar on Light's forehead and, if that happened, Light would have to get his gun out and shoot the motherfucker between the eyes just to make things even.

"And who do you like to demean, if you have so much respect for women, Kira-kun? There must be someone. You have to get your kicks from somewhere.”

Suddenly, Light takes a step backwards and B almost falls in his face. This time, Light doesn't even hold back from his laugh.

"Listen," he says to the air with eyes trained on B. "I have a message for Misa.”

Really, B is pathetic, just a walking caricature of one thing or another. He thinks he can cry wolf - well, Light would just have to give him something worth crying about.

In the back, Rem struggles with delayed reacting as per usual.

"Yagami Light, are you talking to me?" she asks like she's dimwitted or something.

Offhandedly, Light strolls around the room. "Yes, I think it should be something along the lines of, I won't be coming home for supper, not now or for the foreseeable future. Tell her sweet little heart not to worry too much about me. I have things under control - it's just the details I'd like her to attend to. Tell her that there's too many things outside the house in need of washing and to not venture too far out. She should know what I'm talking about. If not, then I'm afraid we were never meant to be.”

"You're telling me to go visit Misa?" Rem wants to do, like that's the only thing she's gotten from Light's highly specific monologue.

B just stares at him. "You wouldn't dare.”

This time, Light kicks the bat as far away from them as possible and takes out his glock, playing with the safety in a way that he's sure B will see.

"Tell Misa," he says to Rem. "That Kira needs to send a message to the world. I think it's about time that the people who miss me most heard from me, don't you?”

"I doubt it," says B.

Rem just heads for the window. "I suppose so." After she's gone, B turns to the window and looks at the exact spot she was standing just a moment before.

"I suppose I walked myself into that one like a whore begs for crack," he says glumly.

At the end of the day, Light is victorious or will be very soon. He thought he would be. "I wouldn't use such poetic language to describe your situation. Would you like me to tell L how badly you fucked up or what you like to?”

"Honestly, I'd like it better if you just sliced me up into pieces and put me in a mailing tube.”

Light gets close because he can. There's nothing he couldn't handle. B's only mistake was that he mistook himself for someone even close to his and L's level. "Oh, I'm beginning to get the sense that you're someone who would enjoy that.”

At that, B barks.

As soon as B appeared, Light had to figure out why. In the end, he realized that B was just the brawn of the bunch and not the brains. Light could confess that he's Kira in front of him, he could write down 50 names in the note and B wouldn't be able to do a damn thing because L would never believe anything that came from his mouth. He'd played too many games and for too long. B was here for a long con, which Light had no patience for and this meant that L had no time to play it, not that he knew that. Light likes L best in the dark.

"Oh well," says B easily. "You got a message, no order, to the second Kira. You did it despite me being present in the room, as you gave the message. You know I am certifiably insane so you don't see me as a threat..." Before Light realizes that something is happening, B is sprinting towards him and his loaded gun. The next thing he knows he's on the back and the wind is knocked out of him.

"You should stop doing this," he gasps at B who straddles his waist.

Leaning his head in close, B pets Light on the cheek. It's revolting. "I'm hitting on you by literally hitting on you. Get it?" A large, manic laugh fills the room and sets Light's teeth in edge.

"I get it. Now get off of me. We both know you're not going to try anything.”

Light really shouldn't have said that because, as soon as he does, B looks positively shocked. "Oh, why wouldn't I? There are so many things I could try.”

With all the fury of the world, Light glares and wills the pressure in his head to fade. "You wouldn’t."

Before he kisses him, B grabs a large chunk of Light's hair, the part in the front. He takes it so tight that there's no way Light can move without pulling it out. Then, he crushes their lips together until their teeth scrape and it hurts. It takes Light a full three seconds to take his gun and ram it on the back of B's head.

"You fucking piece of shit," spits Light, face contorted in disgust.

He knees B in the crotch and punches him in he face. It's not enough. Rolling over so he's on top, Light puts a knee in B's stomach and hits him on the face until there's blood on his knuckles.

"That's what I'm talking about," B giggles. "Give it to me some more." His voice dissolves into a high, sexual squeal.

He's not worth it, Light realizes, and stops hitting. Then, he full on smirks and puts a hand in B's pocket, fishing deep and keeping his eyes locked on B's. The eyelids were beginning to swell and they would be a nice purple by tomorrow. Right when B is about to moan, Light pulls out a key.

"Go fuck yourself," he tells B, stands up, gives him one last kick to the stomach, takes the baseball bat, and heads out the door.

 

* * *

 

L is exactly where he left him, the predictable, little fucker. He's still chewing on the exact pack of pineapple gummies he was opening up when Light left, just savoring the tastes his last few days of life would allow him.

When Light comes in, L pretends he's surprised to see him.

"Oh, how did it go? Did you end up sleeping well? It's still early morning, you know, Light-kun." L eyes the baseball bat in Light's hand. "Were you thinking of getting some morning exercises in? If you pitch, I'd be more than happy to catch.”

Light strides up to him and takes him by the arms, holds his wrists together, and bangs his face against the edge of the table. As soon as he touches him, L goes slack.

"You're pathetic," L tells him. "You're not the world's greatest detective. You're a living cunt with a perverse attraction to gutter people. Someday, you'll die alone and wonder why you lived at all. You won't find an answer.”

"Happens to the best of us," L manages to get out with Light's hands around his throat.

Instead of wondering why L isn't fighting back when he's fully capable of incapacitating Light, Light just crushes L's neck with one hand and his mouth with the other. There is no logic anymore when logic itself is constructed for the sole pleasure of some pseudo detective playing card games. This is the reason Light was alive and it is to defeat L. The last three days have been pure rage and it's not helping matters to keep everything hidden under the skin.

Under his palm, L mumbles something and the only reason Light lets up is because he feels a wet tongue on his hand.

"You're angry," L observes, struggling for air. "Did B annoy you?”

It's hard to contain a full on sneer when B's upstairs trying to rub face grease out of his eyes with a concussion that Light gave him.

"Oh I see," L ponders. "You've outsmarted him.”

"Shut up," Light tells him and slaps L across the face with an open hand. He can do whatever he wants to L because L has just intentionally schemed to let B _kiss_ Light. This is normal male rage and Light is entitled to it. A patch on L's face turns pink, then red. It looks almost pretty and Light, who can and will take his time, watches it. B's right - Light is delicate, like he belongs to a time when sickness was the fashion.

"What are you going to do me now?" L asks because he can't shut up. It enrages Light all over again.

Still sneering openly, Light kneels down, tucks one of Light's hands under his knee and takes the other, staring full on into L's fish eyed stare. Holding L's hand onto the ground, Light takes the bat and bashes the end of it into L's fingers. Then, he does it again, again, and again until L gives a small, deep sound.

"I prefer to bat," Light remarks, baring his teeth.

When L looks at him, Light is shocked at how open his face is, like he's got nothing better to do with his time than lay there and let Light break his fingers with a blunt, wooden instrument. He finally looks like he's gotten what's been coming to him. No, Light realizes with a coolness lining his gut, he looks like he's been waiting for this.

He's completely hard against L, Light also realizes and doesn't this say something for his spectacular image?

"I'm flattered," L says, "But my guess is that it's just the violence.”

Light gets up immediately as if he just realized there's something less than savory beneath him and straightens out his suit without looking at L again. "Never leave me alone with B again or I'll break your other hand," he snarls and leaves the room.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Rem!” Ryuk greets when Rem swoops in through the window.

Misa’s had a decor change. Her studio apartment is all Moi Dix Mois, black and white, the colors of a Japanese funeral parlor. Kanon Wakeshima plays softly from a speaker.

“Rem!” she squeals. Black makeup cakes her eyes and her lips are done neutral. “Did Light send you to check on me?” There’s one shinigami too many, or maybe two too many, in this girl’s life, Rem thinks. Before she can say anything, Misa throws her arms around her. “I missed him so much,” she gushes. “And don’t worry. I know exactly what you’re going to say and how to make it up to him. Misa Misa has been doing a _lot_ of thinking.”

 

* * *

 

The next day, 50,000 people have died in prisons, on the streets, in offices, and even classrooms. The news anchors speak in tones of terror and a couple of them have failed to show up for work, requesting that all footage of them be deleted from the web. There's never been more activity on the anonymous chat boards - flame wars erupt between the disenfranchised who spam Kira memes and the dwindling few who are willing to critique him. Kira supporters turn out to be excellent hackers.

It's not a good situation, L knows, but he could hardly give a damn. He's more full of adrenaline than he's been since they chased Hideki down a highway. He'd been on the floor for hours until B stumbles in.

L is more scared of B than anything else. That fact magnifies itself when he is in a helpless state on the floor. As soon as he sees who it was at the door, L tries to get up halfway and to crawl away at the same time. B just laughs at him.

"No, no, no..." B purrs. "Come here, pretty baby. Daddy won't hurt you. Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird.”

"Get away from me," L demands uselessly. He is weak and B already has his collar in one hand.

B forces L down with a knee on his back and pets him on the head like a cat before he takes L'a broken hand gingerly by the wrist. "Oh, I bet you really made a mess of yourself when he did this to you. Is anything else broken? Wriggle your toes for me. _Now_.”

All L does is hide his face in the crook of his arm and pray that B would have another heart attack, this time fatal.

"I'm praying that you have another heart attack, this time fatal," he tells B.

"I'm sure you are." After that, B forces him up, duct tapes a cut up plastic bottle around L's hand as a make shift cast, and gives him a cup of coffee, thick with sugar, with a straw.

"There you are, baby boy. And here are your cookies.” B gives L a tin of Danish ones. He makes L eat them all before he lets him check the news.

It’s either the sugar or something else but L can’t really focus on the words on his screen. All he keeps thinking about it useless things, like winter in Scandinavia and how it’s hot in Australia. “He’s holding the world hostage,” he tells B.

B massages him on the back even though L had told him not to touch him a million times that morning already. “I know, of course I know. Do you want to continue?”

Of course L wants to continue. He could barely give a shit about the world. _And so he gave his only begotten son_ , he remembers from Sunday School. Jesus, he had enough of that shit. 

“Where is he now?”

Getting his face close to L’s, B turns off the monitor so they’re almost twins in the reflection on the black screen. “Plotting, or recovering. He’s taking care of his bruised ego, of course. One must do that when they’re all ego and no substance. You, of all people, understand. He’s sleeping.”

L would never love B and both of them have accepted this a long time ago so when B turns his chair around, puts both his hands on L’s shoulders, L doesn’t do anything.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over a thing,” B tells him and puts his dry lips on L’s. “The test at hand is too hard for you, even if you have studied all night. There’s not enough nerve endings in your skull for you to use to crack this one open. You’re simply not smart enough L, even if you have _many_ other talents.”

It’s a soothing idea and B’s always known exactly what to say to induce an almost catatonic mood for L when he’s at his worst.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh, thanks for reading this far everyone who has made it so far. this has gotten a lot longer than i meant it to and i started working on another fic already.
> 
> sorry for all the typos and for bearing with me. i do have a hazy plan of where i want this to go but am trying to find ways of speeding it along!


	5. therapy day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L takes some time to take care of his mental health and Light finds a way to get ahead

Light takes a shower. He turns the water down so it's cool all around him and closes him eyes, remembering Sayu telling him that ghosts watch those who shut their eyes when they wash their hair. He's not washing his hair and he's god of the dead so he supposes the urban legend is meaningless now. The cold water is necessary - he wouldn't be surprised if he was coming down with a fever. It wasn't like he could afford one now. He'd have to bill L for the hospital fees.

No, he doesn't want to think about L right now. At all. He can't afford to dwell on how L's face bruised when he hit him, or was that B?

_He bruises easily, like a peach._

Sighing, Light leans against the shower wall and puts a hand around his cock. He never does this, usually doesn't have to. Usually, he hates the comedown after he comes. It's messy and makes him feel loose, like he's the sort of person who would allow anything to go down. He's not that sort of person.

It takes a few strokes to get himself to full hardness and then it's easy from there. Light thinks about the trees, about walking outside in winter, about what he had for breakfast as he masturbates. He thinks about nothing in particular.

The last time he did this, it took a long time and it usually does. For some reason, it only takes a few minutes of hasty, halfhearted rubbing to come all over his hand and blink his eyes open. The bathroom lights are too bright and his hand is a wet mess. The come washes off in chunks in the water.

He doesn't feel better. This never makes him feel better. It always makes him feel worse, like there's a hot soup in his stomach and he should sit down infinitely. After orgasm is the only time Light feels vaguely suicidal.

It's not good to dwell on feelings like this when you can get out of the shower, put some clothes, and reenter the real world so Light does it. In the mirror, he checks his face. His haircut, trimmed last week, is sharp and so are the angles of his jaw and nose. No imperfections are found - not on his chin, forehead, or nose. Even when he was going through puberty, he never got acne like the rest of his peers. He could have modeled, if he were the sort to do that kind of thing.

After toweling off, he applies some moisturizer, put a clean suit on, and goes to find L.

 

* * *

 

When Light walks in, L almost thinks that the memories he has of getting beat up must be an elaborate fantasy he'd cooked up. There's a suit on Light and everything about him looks impeccable. If anything, Light has always checked out fine.

"50,000 people died last night," he tells Light, carefully studying a drop of water drips off from his damp hair. There's no immediate reaction and then a carefully conjured up image of serious concern of those perfect features. Light reacts like a textbook psychopath.

B is feeding him cookies despite L being ambidextrous and still having one good hand. One misses his mouth and almost gets planted in his nose. "Hold still and open wide," B snarls at him in a threatening tone.

"Were they all criminals?" Light asks airily. "We might not be dealing with the same Kira, if the numbers changed.”

L hits play on the newscast he's streaming and opens his mouth for another cookie, which B happily delivers. "Mostly DV cases," he says through a mouthful of sugar and butter. "Some not fully prosecuted. It's still going on.”

The news broadcast is schizophrenic - every few minutes there's breaking announcements of entire lists of new deaths. Kira is not washing the world of evil - he's pulling it into a bath of acid. The anchor is a famous one and has handled tsunamis and genocide with calm dissociation. This time, her simply lined eyes are a little manic, voice shaking on particular words.

"For those just tuning in, it seems that Kira's judgments began to heighten in intensity early this morning and has not ceased in intensity since. A single survivor in Riker's Island has reported to CNN that the entire inmate population has been wiped out. Here in Japan, the death toll is estimated at 7,000 and rising. Business, even in the Tokyo financial district has been halted as more and more members of the workforce have been reported missing.”

L turns the broadcast on mute and looks to Light. "Where's the shinigami?”

"You don't think she had anything to do with it, do you?" Light says, looking like he does not give a shit.

"The note book in the possession of the Japanese police is still where I have hidden it. This means that the deaths were carried out using the notebook of the second Kira. Amane Misa is the prime suspect for the second Kira and Rem the shinigami is in love with Amane Misa. I have not figured out the relation yet but I also cannot help but feel that Rem's disappearance has to do with this sudden turn of events.”

All Light does is reach over and steal one of L's cookie. B hisses at him. "Going by a first name basis, are you now, with a death god?”

"I have decided to call Rem by her name to distinguish her from any other shinigami that may be in this world. Answer the question.”

The way Light eats is dainty. Instead of throwing the whole cookie in his mouth, he takes a small bite and chews before taking another. "I, honestly, have no idea where she is. And I have an alibi." Light stares right at L's duct tape cast. They were both there when he smashed L'a fingers with a baseball bat.

"He's got a point," B says unhelpfully.

"Did you make coffee?" Light asks and leaves as chillily as he came in. After Light leaves L squints at B.

"It's not foolproof," he tells him.

B grins and winks. "Baby, I never am.”

 

* * *

 

Today is a triumphant day. The terror of the moment will pass when people begin to realize that all those people would have died anyway but now the world is a better place, simply because someone had the gall to expedite the process. Death is a bureaucratic business and people like Light knows exactly how to cut corners.

When he gets back, Light is sprawled out on the couch. He's been depressed since forever, save for a brief high when they caught Hideki on a helicopter chase but who wouldn't get a little head rush from all that swerving? Light just snorts at him.

"Come sit with me, Light-kun." L means the chair. He's taken over the whole couch. It doesn't mean Light has to obey. Instead, he hovers over L.

“What?"

"L has therapy once a week. Today's his therapy day," B cuts in from the desk where he's taken over L's posture and work, whatever L does all day. It's not like Light hasn't glanced over once in a while. He knows L spends a good amount of time playing the stock markets for shits and giggles and that he's never, ever, once had fucking therapy.

He doesn't take the bait. "What do you want me to do? I'm not an analyst.”

Eyes wide, L just peers at the ceiling. "Oh, a good doctor never speaks. Nonetheless, it's helpful to have another presence behind you when you’re pouring your heart out.”

"Make B do it.”

"He's busy.”

Light scowls but, truth be told, he's having too good of a day for this to ruin it. "I broke your hand last night in a way that was unmistakably intentional and you want to play confessional with me now?”

Reaching over, L gives the seat of the chair a little pat. "Light, this is a strictly secular activity. I wouldn't worry about your lack of ordainment.”

Giving in, Light sits down. "What about lack of a medical license? I won't stay quiet." He isn't a /good/ doctor.

L settles into the couch. Apparently, they were in for a long session. "Oh, I wouldn't expect anything less. Please, feel free to speak your mind. You know I value your input and will pay you a fair fee.”

They're set up like an illustration from a Freudian psychology manual, the patient laying facing away from a psychoanalyst who could clearly barely give a shit. The only the that would make it perfect is if Light were smoking a long cigar.

"Fine." Over time, Light has learned to mostly indulge L's whims. The bulk of them did and meant absolutely nothing. "What do you want to talk about?”

L's sigh is palpable. "Honestly, doctor, I don't know much of what to do with myself lately. I haven't been feeling myself or, perhaps, I feel more and more like myself and I can't stand it.”

It's hard to from give a reaction at that one but Light isn't who he is for nothing. "Oh, have you been taking your medication?" he asks, playing along.

"Of course not. It's just that I often have the delusion that I am useless.”

This time, Light can't hold back. He's smirking in full. "It's not a delusion.”

"You see, doctor," L says, ignoring him completely, "there's a boy.”

Once, Light blinks. “Hm."

"And I'm not sure how I feel about him. Just last night, he was on top of me and things were getting pretty heavy and heated. I'm sure he wasn't aware of it but I sensed something primal in that moment. It wasn't just lust. I can handle that, distort it, play with it, and indulge it from time to time...No, I really felt like he wanted to kill me. I could see it in the way he was huffing and puffing. He wanted to take something from me and make me lose it forever.”

The smirk that had felt so right on Light's face has completely transformed into a scowl now. L just keeps on going.

"Oh, sure, I'm sure he wanted to fuck me. I didn't have to see it. I could feel it, not just metaphorically. It was literally in his pants. I'm not surprised. We've spent quite a lot of time together, this boy and I, in close containers for professional reasons. He's quite young and overly zealous. It's an atrocious quality in a male.”

"Professional reasons my ass," Light bites in more ways than one. This is not something he should be talking about at any time.

At that, L gives a soft chuckle. "Well, I'll admit that I haven't exactly felt professional towards him all the time, especially not last night. I assure you, however, doctor, that I've taken great pains to conceal it. I haven't let it affect my work.”

B shouts out, "L doesn't let anything affect his work.”

L agrees. "No, I really don't. Insecurity has been bred into me and all insecure people want is money and power. It's impossible to believe in a political system that doesn't serve you, hence why I would never run for office.”

"As if anyone would ever fucking vote for you," Light says, miraculously keeping calm. He supposes he's gotten used to the sexual passes these last couple days.

"Hm. No, I suppose no one would. Popularity hasn't exactly been my forte. I suppose that's a contributing factor to how out of sorts I have been about this impending romance. This boy, you should see him doctor, he's really the epitome of a class president. I'm just the stranger in the back of the room, the one no one wants to associate themselves with due to certain social implications. I suppose you could frame me as a sort of manic pixie dream girl, however, and make it work.”

Never has Light hated anyone as much as he does L. He wants to throw L's limp body over the couch and do something to him. "You're not a dream girl, however manic you may be. You're too ugly. And there is no impending romance.”

Lifting a hand, L stares at it like he's considering Light's words. "Oh, I'm hardly ugly. People think so at first, usually. But it's just because they're taken aback.”

"I agree," B chimes in. "L's got a beautiful body.”

"Thank you, B.”

This is exactly the sort of behavior Light told himself he wouldn't put up with today, not on his day. Yes, the future generations would most likely take this day as his day. Who could stop them? He isn't going to let himself get cast in some perverse, teenaged melodrama for sale. Then, he realizes that this is brilliant. Really - he's the best actor of the three. If L wants to play doctor, then Light is just going to have to show him how. He's been acting all his life. This is just rehearsal for him.

"Well, I suppose what they say about fixations is true," he tells L, crossing his legs. "Since our session began, you've done nothing but try to prove yourself to me." A long pause draws itself out.

"I suppose you're right," L responds. "I have been sort of desperate these past few months.”

"Tell me more about this _boy_ ," Light goads. "Is there any particular reason you've fixated on him?”

"I believe that he is a serial killer.”

Cooly, Light sips his hot tea. It's Japanese oolong, robust and nationalistic. "Do you now? What sort of evidence have you gathered from harboring this delusion?”

"He's perfect for it. At first, I profiled Kira as a severely disenfranchised individual. It's usually those who foster a healthy fear of the state who take up vigilante justice. However, when I found him I realized that he is perfect. This is the most boring specimen you could ever meet, doctor. Boredom is the key ingredient to developing a ruthless personality.”

In other words, L has no evidence save for an endless stream of narcissistic projection based on empty, self satisfied assumptions about the way other people work. He might as well drown in a puddle of his own masturbatory goo. "And when did your sexual fixation begin?”

L breaks the rules of conduct, rolls over and peers at Light. There's a grease stain on the collar of his shirt. "The root of it began in early childhood. As you know, I was severely traumatized by circumstances beyond my control. B was the one to induce the trauma and used it to ensure that it would develop into paranoia and chronic anxiety. He did it to quell his own generalized sense of insecurity.”

There's a loud laugh from where B is sitting. "You got that right! You can always count on me."

Light is not moved. "What about with the boy in question? When did you first notice your unnatural tendencies?”

Lifting a leg up, L stretches in a gruesome way and hooks it around the back of the sofa. It's enraging to see him relaxed. "I would hardly call my tendencies unnatural. They may be one of the only natural outlets left to me. To answer your question, that would be when I installed security cameras in the boy's home and all over his bedroom, even the bathrooms. I would stay up all night, watch him shower, change his underwear. I saw it all." Big eyes stare at Light. L thinks that he can spook him. Well, Halloween is over and Light only deserves treats.

"So your sexual fixation predate your assumptions about this character being Kira.”

B giggles as L pulls both hands towards his toes. "Arousal increases my IQ up to 40%, doctor. In fact, many of my best cases have been cracked in the height of sexual frustration.”

Smoothing down his hair, Light ignores them both. "Let's assume the man in question is Kira. What do you suppose he wants to achieve?”

L leans his head back so he's looking at Light backwards. He can look at him any way he wants. It's not going to change a thing. "That's a frighteningly banal question, doctor. He wants world peace, I guess. All the childish ingrates do.”

"Do most serial killers kill with world peace as their motive?”

"Ha! Most people die due to the concept having been even invented in the first place. Behind every number is only one words - cannibalism." B titters with laughter.

Tightly, Light smiles. "You think very highly of yourself, don't you?" He has to change his strategy. L thinks too highly of himself.

"On the contrary.”

"I wonder," Light sighs, "why the world's greatest detective needs sexual frustration to solve his cases. It hints at several, unsolved, personal issues to me.”

"Yes, like I said, B gave me several unsolvable issues that fill me with anxiety to this day.”

"Paranoia, you mentioned." And Sayu always complains that Light doesn't listen.

"Paranoia is the most useful of the set. I would also mention delayed social skills and a great number of obsessions.”

"I think," Light announces, "that you've failed to resolve these issues because you've someone who refuses help. You're set in your ways and you become obsessed with your own private theories, even when they have no bearing in reality. Even if, say, something proves your entire theory wrong, you would never give up on it. This isn't sane. It's a personality disorder.”

L starts to pick between his toes and Light doesn't think he's showered since he locked them all up in here. "I agree.”

"I also think that it's time you allow yourself to solve these issues following someone else's lead. How would B solve these issues between the two of you, for example?”

L's toes are too long and so are his fingers. Light watches him push his fingers in and out with disgust. "He would pulverize me.”

B, all the way across the room, is beginning to get excited. "One word," he pipes up. "Fucking. I would make L lose his head because having one like the one he's got doesn't make him very happy in life. Like the queen in Alice...off with his head!" His voice echoes in the empty office.

"There you have it," L mumbles. "B would decapitate me.”

Light rolls his eyes. "I don't think that's what he meant. You _are_ exceptionally paranoid for someone your age.”

Melodramatic, L heaves out, stick two fingers of each hand in the air, and wiggles them around. "The neighbor's dog looked at me like he was planning something rough. Get it? Ruff-ruff.”

Light stands up. Nothing good would come from all this banter and it is starting to get boring. Light knows what he is going to be allowed to get out of this situation now and what B wants more than anything. L's made it obvious because he thinks that Light won't use it against him. "I've heard enough. Your statements suggest to me that you're in the middle of a severe mental collapse, L. It's very schizophrenic, or did you realize? You have conditions that even years of premium medications and expensive hospitalizations would not even treat. Honestly, I'm not sure that you're worth the trouble of saving. The only thing I would recommend is that you be restrained and detained for your own good but, more importantly, the good of the world. B, please help me tie the patient up.”

Besides them and himself, B is in a fit. He squeals and cracks up, just laughs and laughs until Light tells him to shut up.

 

* * *

 

They use L's own chains, stretched around a headboard to chain him to Matsuda's old bed. L and Light's bedroom is in no state to be used any longer and Matsuda has a wireframe bed that he brought from home.

B does it and he takes too long. L wants to knee him in the crotch or at least give a good kick in the stomach but controls himself. B is taking immense pleasure in chaining him up and the violence would only turn him on more, make him more excited and prone to doing something rash to L.

"Nice and tight," B singsongs while checking on the restraints. Behind him, Light looks on approvingly.

"I'm not sure how this happened," L admits.

Light's face smiles but his eyes don't. "Oh, you don't? You made me show you my weakness so I found yours. All B needs to engage in some sadomasochistic fun is an excuse. You thought you were clever bringing him in here.”

On his chest, B grins at L. "This is why I never take you anywhere," L tells him.

Once B gets the restraints tight, Light tells him to move aside. It’s then that L realizes he was truly right all along. There is no other person who can be Kira. The sheer pleasure that shows on Light’s face is enough to confirm it.

“I hope you and B enjoy each other’s company,” Light tells him, gloatingly. “I have some work to do. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be bothered.” Then, he leaves L alone with an over excited B.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Light does once he’s finally, truly, totally free is make himself a nice meal. There’s frozen shrimp in the fridge that he defrosts and fries up with some peppers in garlic and oil. He eats the meal like he’s been malnourished for months. In a way, he has been. Sugar is the absence of food.

The second thing Light does is take a look at all the security cameras installed in the building. They’re all empty, except for the one in Matsuda’s room, of course. That’s the one he leaves on so it’s broadcast on the huge screen in the office.

The third and final thing Light does, not because he’s been putting it off but because he needs to be in the best state of mind possible to do this, is call Misa.

“Light!” She’s ecstatic and her voice is a squeak that grates on Light’s nerves.

Light doesn’t bother apologizing about the radio silence. He, like all leaders, need to show a position of strength. “You’ve done well, Misa-chan.” Instantly, she’s teary, It doesn’t mean anything. Light can’t trust an actress of all people.

“Misa Misa has quit her job as a model and spends all of her time writing in the note. She would do anything for Light! But Misa Misa also wants to know…when will she be by Light’s side?”

For some reason, the question annoys Light more than anything that’s happened the past few days. Misa should know when she would be by Light’s side and the mere prospect should be enough to shut her up into silent obedience. She would be with him when he rules the world, when L is dead.

When L is dead.

L could be dead now. Light is alone and there’s no one to stop him from doing anything he likes to do. The room is so empty he can hear the echo of his own typing.

When L is dead, Light would have to download all of the information on the hard drives and continue the investigation as L until his father dies. He would have to lead a sham of an investigation, one so inefficient that respect for the L brand would plummet until a letter was just a letter. When L is dead, Light wouldn’t just kill him. He would destroy him.

“Light?”

“MIsa, I’d like you to send another message to the world,” Light tells her. He has something more specific in mind this time.

“Yes, Light! Anything you want, Light-baby.” The way Misa talks is like sugar. It’s powered sugar, all fluff and no weight.

“I need things to happen faster. Not everyone will accept Kira and we don’t have time to wait until those people die or commit a crime. Yet, it would be unjust for God to judge those people. Do you understand?”

Misa is swooning. Light can tell even over the phone. “Yes, Light. You want us to be together faster, don’t you? Don’t worry, you don’t have to say it if you’re shy. Misa Misa knows already.” It’s times like this that Light remembers Misa is actually older than him.

“We need to instigate a conflict,” he says, “so that devout Kira followers actively begin to recruit and defend their own.”

“Don’t worry, Light-baby. Misa has the perfect thing.”

 

* * *

 

“Great work,” L tells B. “You’ve let him completely manipulate you by playing into your baser, biological urges. Let me just say, it’s not a spectacular look on you.”

The look B gives him says “I love you” stronger than anything L has ever seen in his life. “Shut up,” B says. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You did all this so that I would end up like this.” L yanks on his chains. “You find perverse pleasure in locking me up and throwing away the key. I shouldn’t have trusted you and put you on this case.”

“Well, you never did.”

L tries to turn around and finds that it is impossible. If this keeps up, someone is going to have to help him move everyday so that he doesn’t get bedsores. It’s unlikely he’d receive such kindness from his present company.

“Admit it,” he goads B. “You don’t care about Kira. You’ve never cared about justice. That’s why you’ve always been a shit detective and a great liar. All you care about at the end of the day is getting off the way you like, fuck the world.”

After a loud, loud laugh, B parrots exactly what L just said back to him. “ _Admit it, you don’t care about Kira. You’ve never cared about justice. That’s why you’ve always been a shit detective and a great liar_.”

Wounded, it’s enough to make L try to scoot until he’s barely touching B. This just makes B crawl over closer until they’re skin to skin.

“You’re not going to do anything, are you?” L asks, like he’s bored. Of course it’s just a gimmick.

With his arm, B cradles L’s head like it’s a baby. “Of course not. Unless you want me to. How about it, L? Let’s _fuck_.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I gotta be honest - I have to take a break from fic writing to get back to my real life :( I know exactly how I want this fic to end so I probably won't abandon it but it's not going to be updated for a bit!
> 
> Hope y'all are enjoying so far, though, and see y'all once I get some of my responsibilities out of the way :)

**Author's Note:**

> I am seriously so overworked right now that the only thing keeping me from short circuiting right now is writing this fanfic on my phone while riding the train. If, even after all these years, Death Note is still your safe space like it is mine, then kudos to you and nice to see you.
> 
> if you can't already tell, I wrote this directly after reading nights by youremyqueen which is my new favorite thing ever. I'm sure you've read it if you're in this fandom but, if you haven't, go read it.


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